


There’s a horn rising up on my head (but I love it)

by HelgaHeason



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Horns, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Someone Help Will Graham, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelgaHeason/pseuds/HelgaHeason
Summary: We all have our own nightmares, our own demons. We’re all haunted by something, in amongst all our fears. There’s always something that makes us tick.Nobody knows this better than Will Graham.Or: the Stag decides to pay Will a visit, with some slightly less than usual side-effects.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	There’s a horn rising up on my head (but I love it)

**Author's Note:**

> This one gets very trippy.  
> Will has a fever and hallucinates.  
> This one could be triggering to some, so please be careful.
> 
> It was supposed to be a submission for a challenge created by one of my friends, but I failed to meet the wordcount and the other rule, so I got disqualified.
> 
> The bits in italics are memories.

_“A name… It’s just that. It’s just a name. No-one can give it any weight, or power. Only you can do that. You can make your name mean something. And the meaning will be what people think of you when you’re dead.”  
The cannibal had hummed thoughtfully at that, and when Will looked up to meet his gaze, he was startled to see some inflection of indignant fear in his eyes._

Stood there in the living room, balanced between the devil’s daydreams and his own nightmares, where reality and fantasy had begun to blur, Will realised that Hannibal had never actually said anything about his… Whatever that had been. A moment of weakness, feeling - a crack in his armour?

_“You and I are just alike.”  
The words rattled around his skull, and the other nodded, echoing his words in a deeper, accentuated tone.  
“We are just alike.”_

Will breathed out, shallowly, and when he looked back up to Hannibal - there it was, behind him. Raven-black, and beautiful… And alive. Its breathing rang loud, clear, and almost chilling. Hadn’t it died when Abigail had - when blood ran like water back in Baltimore? Will stared into the jet-black eyes, and the Stag stared right back.

**_Baby, I’m preyin’ on you tonight_ **

Will’s breath shook, and the Stag’s eyes blinked. It wasn’t scared. It knew exactly what it was there for, what it materialised to do. It couldn’t harm Will - it had no power here in the mortal realm - but it could still scare the living shit out of him. Or **could** it harm him - did it have that power? Had his alarmingly quick descent into insanity fuelled the Stag’s abilities? Could it now harm him via the power of his weak mental state and its own newfound strength? Will tore his eyes away from the Stag, and looked instead at Hannibal, who blinked carefully and held up both hands.

_“A day will come when I cannot help you with your fears, and you may feel like your life is ruled by them. Rely on your inhibitions, and shatter your limitations. Your fears cannot hurt you.”_

Will blinked and breathed out, mirroring Hannibal’s movements. The cannibal looked at him curiously, oddly beautiful maroon eyes marred by fear and nervousness.

**_Hunt you down, eat you alive_ **

“Will?”  
Hannibal’s voice was soft, quiet; calculating. He wanted to take control of the situation, put Will back in his place. Will didn’t look at him. He couldn’t bear to. Not from some foolish feelings, or some pesky emotions, but because he was scared.

_“A Stag?”  
Will nodded.  
“A big, black Stag. Gigantic. It’s huge. It’s… It’s a massive Stag. Like… You know deers? Like that, but huge.”_

He remembered that Hannibal had, if at all possible, seemed incredibly concerned. He’d rambled about this Stag for approximately ten minutes, while Hannibal had watched carefully, hoping to calculate what was happening. He finally met Hannibal’s gaze, flicking from the cannibal’s eyes to the Stag’s eyes - Hannibal’s full of merciless grace, the Stag’s blacker than deep space and devoid of all emotion.  
“You… You remember the Stag I told you about?”

**_Just like animals, animals, animals-mals_ **

Hannibal nodded, slowly, the scared calculation still in his eyes.  
“Yes, I do.” He confirmed. “The big, black Ravenstag.”  
Will nodded, his heart hammering against his chest and threatening to burst out. It was violent, thudding and though not unfamiliar, it was terrifying.  
“It’s back. It’s behind you.” His voice shook.  
His hands trembled, thoughts racing around his mind at the speed of sound. One particular thought ran through his skull, rattling around, running through his nerves like fledgling birds finally taking flight.  
Hannibal paused, hands still held up in a placating gesture, and turned around slowly. He looked at the spot where the Stag was stood, breathing out shallowly and restlessly, not once flinching. The Stag’s soulless eyes didn’t move from Will’s terrified, unsteady blue.  
“I’m sorry, Will, but…” Hannibal blinked a few times, trying to see the large black Stag. “I cannot see it.”  
Will’s gaze flickered back to Hannibal, whose own gaze had flickered back to Will. Fear lingered within Will’s unfocussed eyes, and reflected in Hannibal’s almost amber irises.

**_Maybe you think that you can hide_ **

As Will tried to focus on Hannibal, and ignore the massive Stag, the world shifted a little. Something in Will’s head burned, and he sank to the floor in pain. He suddenly felt extremely feverish and weak. Had his migraines returned? Had he caught a cold, or the flu, or something? A few tears dripped from his shaky, unfocussed eyes. His tear ducts leaked, sending forth the flood. Hannibal made a quiet noise in the back of his throat - low, guttural, and concerned. Will curled up in a ball on the floor, and Hannibal lay a worn cotton blanket over him, staying there with him. Will was his friend. No longer just his patient, but his best friend too. He smiled a little to himself. Will would be alright. The sickness would pass.

_“Standing here, I’ve realised something.”  
Hannibal’s maroon gaze, incandescent gold in this light, flickered over to him.  
“Oh?”  
Will sighed.  
“In the time I’ve known you, I feel like the only mistake I have made with you has been finding a friend in the only enemy I have ever had.”  
Hannibal paused, and that indignant fear had returned to his eyes - soon followed by a borderline insane curiosity._

**_I can smell your scent for miles_ **

A few hours passed before Will woke, but when he did, he abruptly wished he hadn’t. His head still burned, feeling very much like a star going supernova. He reached up to touch his forehead with shaky hands, and gasped, almost passing out again. There were bumps on his forehead, ridges and grooves - that felt like what he’d seen the Stag’s antlers to look like. A sudden fear flashed through his body, causing tremors and shaking in its wake.  
“Hannibal!”  
His voice was like his body - weak, cracked, broken and painful. It clawed at his throat, screaming at him for calling out to Hannibal. He couldn’t find it within him to care much, and called again. Hannibal came running mere moments later, and gently pulled Will’s head to his chest.  
“How are you feeling?”  
Hannibal’s unusually smooth voice was of little comfort to Will, but he pressed on through the pain. The lightheadedness had returned quickly, and the death grip Will had on Hannibal’s expensive suit jacket was pretty much the only thing keeping him some degree of sane. If ever he **was** sane, of course.  
“Can you get a mirror, or something?”  
Will's throat stung, and his voice cracked, but again, he didn't really care. Hannibal paused, before eventually nodding and gently lying Will down on the floor. It occurred to Will that this could all be Hannibal’s doing, one last hurrah before killing him, but he dismissed it, against his better judgement.

**_Just like animals, animals, animals-mals (baby, I-)_ **

Hannibal nodded. He moved Will to the large chaise lounge, taking care to avoid touching his head. After lying him down gently, he wordlessly left the room, leaving Will alone with his invasive thoughts.

_“You know… On occasion, it hasn’t been the Stag I’ve encountered. On really bad nights, the Stag wouldn’t dream of showing its face. It’s clear it hates me, but at least, there is some grace in that it has decency. On those nights… It’s some form of… Hybrid, between you and the Stag. Human in form, like you, but… With antlers and claws…”_

Will startled out of a fitful sleep to Hannibal gently tapping his shoulder. He backed away slowly, before blinking, and realising he was still exactly where Hannibal had left him.  
“Oh… It’s just you.”  
Hannibal smiled a little.  
“Yes.”  
He held out a mirror, and a small red pill. There was a glass of water on the side table next to the lounge.  
“For the headache.”  
Will nodded, and gratefully accepted. After a while, the headache eased off slightly - and while it wasn’t a great deal better, it was enough, at least, to concentrate.

**_So if I run_ **

He eventually held up the mirror, with shaking hands, and nearly passed out again at what he saw. A pair of perfect, raven-black antlers, large and strong. Even though they were the marks of the Stag, so hideously soulless, they were also a very dark kind of beautiful. Thinking that made Will want to tear his insides out. He made a sudden move to curl up into a ball again, like he had earlier, but was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and felt his heart stop. The Wendigo. How was it here? Why now?

_“Sometimes I think it would be better if we put a lock on that door.”  
Hannibal had looked rather thoughtful, humming a morbid little tune to the rhythm of ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’. He had only looked up once, to complain about Jack running in like a dog with rabies.  
Will opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t **his** fault that Jack had suddenly run in like a bat out of hell, but was interrupted by the appearance of the Stag._

Will gasped, inhaling so hard that Hannibal found himself wincing. The Stag was haunting his memories, and now the Wendigo had come out to play. But why?

**_It’s not enough?_ **

Will dared look back up to Hannibal, and found that the Wendigo had vanished - but the Stag had returned, lurking just off the edge of his vision, where all his demons lurked. Always just out of sight, but just in sight too - a fine line between order and chaos. It stood behind Hannibal as it had previously, head down, antlers dangerously close to the cannibal’s head. It stared over at Will - and though its eyes bore no emotion, Will could swear there was a possessive glint in those empty black eyes. For a second, he wondered why it would ever be possessive, but then he realised it was his antlers. The large, smooth, black antlers resting remarkably gently on his forehead. They should’ve been heavier, but they were so light that Will could barely feel they were there.

_Hannibal paused, and set his cup of… Whatever it was, down on the desk behind him.  
“So… To clarify…?”  
Will sighed, and took a deep breath.  
“I’m having disturbingly lucid Stag dreams - **stag dreams** \- I’m hallucinating a gigantic black Stag that you’ve nicknamed ‘the Ravenstag’, Alana wants me to be checked into the Baltimore Asylum for the Criminally Insane, and Freddie keeps trying to catch me in the act of hallucinating said Stag so she can write a trashy news story about it and make hella money off my probable insanity.”  
He inhaled like he had been starved of all oxygen, and Hannibal blinked. His expression was halfway between confusion and startled understanding. Almost like a Stag in headlights._

**_You’re still in my head_ **

Will shook his head violently, through the horrific headache and intrusive thoughts. Memories were assaulting him from all angles, reminding him of past conversations and Stag encounters that (probably) lead up to this happening.

_“You’re being hounded by a gigantic black Stag.”  
Will nodded. Hannibal continued.  
“But what is it after? **Is** there something it’s after, or is it here merely to scare you? Could there be some manifestation of your fears in there somewhere?”  
Will had paused at that, and sat down on Hannibal’s polished wooden desk. He didn’t look up, but began to try and explain his thoughts.  
“I’ve always assumed it’s after me. I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s some entity of the devil, or a warning to put me back on the straight and narrow?”  
Hannibal hadn’t responded, his maroon eyes focussing on the Stag ornament in the centre of his office._

He grasped his forehead, sobbing quietly, the antlers pushing against his palms and cutting slowly into his blistered skin. The Stag took a slow step toward him. Will jumped, and hared it out of the room. Hannibal just watched him as he ran out of the house like a speeding bullet. He blinked a few times, and sighed. Will kept running, ignoring the blood that dripped from his palms.

**_Forever stuck_ **

Hannibal and Alana watched from Hannibal’s kitchen window as Will fell over, tripping over a rock. Alana looked terrified, while no emotion registered on Hannibal’s face. Will pulled himself to his feet, exhaling shallowly. The Stag’s heavy breathing was on his neck now, an echo of his own horrendous panting. It was unrelenting, determined to catch Will by whatever means necessary.

_“What does this mean, Doctor Lecter?”  
Hannibal shrugged a little.  
“It means you have to face your fears. Fight fire with fire. Stand up to the Stag, show it who’s boss.”  
Will paused, thinking, while Hannibal had continued.  
“Don’t run from it. Turn on your heel and stare straight into its soul. Make it fear you, as you fear it.”_

Will blinked, and turned around slowly. The Stag had slowed down a little, and was now catching up to him, its steps slow and purposeful, impacting against smooth, lifeless tarmac. Hannibal watched from the window as Will heaved himself to his feet, and stood opposite the Stag, steely and unwavering. Hannibal smiled, a sardonic grin not too dissimilar to a shark.  
“Who’s afraid of the big bad Stag?”

**_So you can do what you wanna do_ **

**Author's Note:**

> The fic’s title is a line from TXT’s ‘CROWN’.
> 
> The song used in the fic is ‘Animals’, by Maroon 5, and you can listen to it here:  
> \- [Maroon 5 - Animals](https://youtu.be/0GVExpdmoDs)
> 
> I’m on Twitter and I take fic commissions, DM me here:  
> \- [Helga Heason](https://twitter.com/HelgaHeason)
> 
> Help support my work by buying me a coffee here:  
> \- [Helga Heason Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/helgaheason)


End file.
